


Thrice

by shadowsdream



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsdream/pseuds/shadowsdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A recollection of Loki's attempts on Thor's life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrice

**Author's Note:**

> Based on events in Thor and The Avengers and what could still be to come

_Thrice you will call a price on your brother’s life. The third time you will taste his blood and weep._

Thor’s bloody hand came to rest upon his face, branding him red. Those blue eyes that had always looked to him with love and affection amidst the rivalry and anger were clouding over now, unfocusing, dying. Loki gently kissed his brother’s fingers in a silent plea - _forgive me_.

***

The second time, Loki had an army. But that was just a distraction, the entertainment in the middle of the game. Something to keep the meddling humans out of the way, the Chitauri drawing them out like moths to flame, the burning acrid flames of a city torn up by its roots. Concrete and metal don’t burn, but how pretty do the little people light up as everything falls down around them.

“We can stop this,” Thor had said. Thor was a fool, a blind child, predictable.

_Sentiment…_

Loki had smirked as he palmed the blade. Delicate and simple, unlike Thor’s unwieldy Mjolnir. Silent and effective, that was Loki’s trademark. Well, it was, when his flair for the dramatics wasn’t aroused. The beating he took before rolling off that Stark tower was the bargain price he paid. Thor may have won the battle, but the war was coming.

Bound and gagged, they thought they had him. Oh, but the work had been done. What need did he have for his hands or his words, when the poison was already in Thor’s veins? Thor was a fool, a blind child. He had seen Loki weave magic over his weapons before… before the exile. Why would this tiny blade be any different?

Just a spell to weaken, slowly, inconspicuously. For who would suspect the defeated, bound and gagged? He could lose Midgard a thousand times over, Loki had higher sights. The human world was just a worthy distraction. And they delivered the wolf to the sheep.

The Tesseract brought them both back to Asgard in just seconds. Strange that a little cube like that had the power to outmatch the Bifrost. Loki watched his brother from beneath his lashes. Thor was never much of a master of the occult, the travel between worlds always left him disorientated and vulnerable. He closed his eyes for a split second too long, for it took Loki only a moment to break the bonds and hurl the wretched gag across the room. Thor managed to raise Mjolnir but before the hammer could connect, a blur of black and green smashed the breath out of the God of Thunder. With his brother pinned down, Loki looked around him.

Of course, the vault. Thor chose well. The guards would be down the hall soon, the All-father would not be far behind. Casting about, Loki’s eyes narrowed. The Tesseract was gone. _SHIELD_ , he thought, _you pathetic meddling humans_. His brother would never have had the foresight to send the cube out of reach once they arrived in Asgard. That man named Stark, he would have had a hand in this. In another time, Loki could have done with a mind like that. For now, he would have to settle for imagining crushing that mind into oblivion. No matter, he could work around this inconvenience. Loki could hear the footsteps coming now. Under the palace of Asgard, there was only one way out. Standing up, Loki hauled Thor to his feet. The magic poison had taken its hold, making him sluggish. He hardly put up a fight as Loki dragged his dead weight to the doorway.

“LOKI!” Odin’s voice echoed the chambers. “You will answer for your crimes!”

“And it is good to see you too, father.” Loki grinned, all teeth and hidden threats under a cloak of sardonic pleasure. A mocking bow and a wink, the God of Lies was home.

“Release Thor, Loki. And there may be mercy.”

“Mercy? From these fifty guards? Oh, you do offend me so. But I feel generous. You may have Thor for my free passage and I will not bloody these floors. Absolve me from these so called crimes.”

“Loki, you dare to…” Odin swallowed his outrage as Loki ran his hand across the throat of an unconscious Thor. There was fear in the All-father’s eye.

Tapping his finger over the jugular, Loki smiled at the pulse, weak but steady. It would mean the bleeding would take that much longer.

“If you would be so kind as to dismiss the guards, father…”

Loki watched Odin fume in silence when at last they were alone. The god who was his father once stood shaking in anger, power rolled over him in waves, barely kept in check save for the prospect of two dead sons to be.

"Father," Loki smiled a dangerous smile as he kept his grip on his brother's throat. "How good it is to see you so agreeable today. I'm sure Thor would be greatly indebted to your generosity. Well, if he was currently conscious, that is."

His voice edged in tiredness, Odin pleaded, "Let him go Loki."

"Let him go? Ah, but you see that would put me in a much disadvantaged position. For you see, you seem to be blocking my grand exit. If you would be so kind, please step aside."

A request polite enough, but the command was not hard to see when a life of a god hung in the balance. They circled each other like wolves, Odin and Loki, each ever wary of the other making an unplanned move. The seasoned king and the master of magic. They would've hung in stalemate had Thor not decided at that point to regain some form of lucidity.

"Loki..." It was barely a whisper, magic and poison toying with Thor's mind and body. Those unusually bright eyes, fighting through the threads of delirium tried to find Loki's. And that was all it took. Odin stepped forward, drawing forth his height and power, and raised his right hand forming a shard of godly light that manifested into the shape of Gungnir. Loki cloaked himself in a shield of darkness, having just enough time to hurl Thor's body towards his father, before the spear of Odin struck him. A colossal explosion lit up the vault of Asgard, the aftershocks reverberating throughout the realm. When the blinding light finally receded, Loki had vanished.

***

The first time, Loki would admit to being a child. He sent the Destroyer to Midgard on a whim. A shiny new toy let loose, starting pretty fires that blinked like stars to the world above. There was just something strangely satisfying in kicking over the pile of sticks and stones his brother was trying to protect. It reminded him of childhood and silly little mud castles that entertained silly childish minds.

He would have won if not for Odin’s curse. Or perhaps to Thor, it became a blessing.

_Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor._

In some ways Loki never doubted Thor would find his redemption. He also never doubted his own plans to sit the throne but plans were never predictions even for a mastermind like himself. That was how he found himself goading Thor into the fight they both needed.

“I will not fight you, brother,” Thor had said, calling it madness.

But Thor was predictable, with his tenacious grip on honour and loyalty. A few well placed words were all it took for the God of Thunder to swing Mjolnir in defence of some woman he met on Earth. At the beginning, there was just the half-hearted taunting that came hand in hand with sibling rivalry.

Then for Loki, it became something else entirely. With each blow, came a burst of resentment, bitter memories of childhood playing out; the faster horse, the larger sword, the approval that came so easily from a father who was never his. Thor may be stronger and quicker, but Loki had his cunning. He was going to win this round. The Bifrost could not be stopped, no matter what Thor’s strength could accomplish. In a matter of moments, Jotunheim would be destroyed and Loki would be the hero that avenged Asgard. He never wanted the throne; he only knew he would be a better king than Thor could ever be. Perhaps it was madness, but Loki's mind felt clearer than it had in eons.

It took but one illusion and Thor was thrown on his back, Loki holding Gungnir ready for the final blow. And he tasted what must have fuelled his brother’s warlust all these years. The glow of triumph that infuses the body, the feeling of being indestructible, the one thing that made his brother foolhardy at the worst of moments. For one so quick-witted Loki barely had time to acknowledge that before weight of Mjolnir crushed down upon him.

He, Loki, would not have his plans go awry, crumbling and blowing into the wind like sand between his fingers. But try as he might, he did not possess the power of Thor. Mjolnir stayed a deadweight on his chest, trapping him on the bloody bridge. With his breathing ragged, and sweat brimming his eyes, he still had to laugh. Thor may best him in this fight, but he could not stop the Bifrost. Jotunheim will be ashes and Asgard would kneel before him.

There was desperation in Thor's eyes, desperation to save a world he did not love. Now, that was madness. The mighty Thor with all the strength of the world and what good did it do him now. There was nothing he could do. He was powerless to stop the inevitable. When Mjolnir suddenly lifted off him, Loki could only lie stunned in disbelief. Thor would not dare. And yet the crash of thunder was echoed through the realm as the might of Thor met the Bifrost.

"What are you doing?" Loki could see it all starting to fall apart before him now. "If you destroy the bridge you'll never see her again!"

Loki could now taste the so called desperation he mocked in others; it was bitter and it was sour, something he vowed never to taste again. He hurtled himself towards Thor, there was still time to stop his plans turning to ashes. He summoned the rest of his strength, a final strike in the back, there would be no defence. But before he could reach Thor, the blast as Mjolnir destroyed the Bifrost sent the two of them flying over the shattered pieces of the bridge. For a moment all he saw were the stars spiralling around him in a dizzying array of colours, the emptiness of space enveloping him in its silence as he fell into its embrace. A jolt shook him back into the world as Thor grabbed Gungnir in an effort to pull him back from the brink of oblivion. And then a figure appeared on the remains of the bridge above him. The All-father had awakened.

Loki expected anger, would have welcomed rage, but the look of pity, of disappointment was more than he could take.

"I could've done it father..." It was almost a plea, except Loki did not beg.

"No, Loki."

It was so final, like a door slamming shut, its echoes forever reminding the world that there would never be acceptance for the son of Laufey. And so as Asgard turned its back on him, Loki let go of all that still held him to that world and turned to the emptiness around him.

***

The third time was seven months after New York, when they met again on the field of Vigrith. The splendid battle had infused Thor with a new strength. Loki watched him between his own fighting, noting the golden aura that emanated from the God of Thunder. The essence of poison Loki had left in his veins was long gone. This was Thor in his glory, the melding of god and weapon on the final day of Ragnarok.

Loki ducked as a stray arrow hissed by his ear, a subtle gesture of his fingers and a fireball engulfed the group of archers. Asgardians in all their brilliant armour, now roasting flesh in steel. Loki never grew to love the taste of battle. There was the accomplishment of chaos, that always brought a smirk to his lips. But to be in the thick of it...

"Loki!"

He turned at that voice. _Ahh... the watcher finally stops watching._

"You are a traitor, Loki. You have turned your back on all those who loved you."

"Loved me?" Loki smiled at those marble eyes before him. Eyes tell thoughts that are yet to be spoken, but Heimdall's mind had always been a closed book to him. "Love is for children."

They regarded each other for a few moments as the battled raged on around them, each watching, planning, calculating. Loki made the first move, feigning a strike to the left before swinging an uppercut to the right with his staff. As predicted, Heimdall blocked the attack and countered with one of his own, his sword missing Loki's throat by a mere hair's breadth. And so they danced the dance of death, as the black sun rose across the sky and then began its descent. Loki's illusions and tricks were useless against the eyes that saw all. Only his quick footing saved him from the kiss of Heimdall's sword. The two parried back and forth until the ground was covered in their blood, blooming red in the dust. There was no denying it; the fight was drawing to an end. Loki's endurance was waning, his breath came in shuddering gasps, his hands felt slick, and one more hit from Heimdall would surely send his staff flying from his grasp.

"I yield!" Loki threw down his weapon and held his bloody palms out.

Heimdall paused, regarding the God of Lies with suspicion. "You yield?"

"I yield. I yield to you, I yield to the All-father, I yield to Asgard." Loki glared at the ground before him as the words came tumbling out. "I yield because I can see the insanity now. This war could never be won, not on these grounds. I thought I could do it. I thought I had worked out the odds. But I'll not die trying. I value my life above that. I know Odin will spare me if I yield, the fool he is. I will live, and I will try again." He looked up then, eyes burning brightly, filled with something akin to insanity, a fire that would not be stamped out in defeat. He looked up, daring Heimdall to kill him.

The tip of Heimdall's sword wavered as battle between honour and reason played out. Loki could toy with indecision as easily as a cat toys with a mouse. He may not be able to see Heimdall's inner thoughts but when it came to their wretched honour, all Asgardians were the same. As Heimdall lowered his weapon, Loki dived forward, a knife appearing in his hand. The blade curved wickedly and tore through the useless armour guarding the watchman's heart. The God of Lies allowed himself to smile now, as the lifeless body slipped from his arms to the ground. The eyes would see no more. But the hands clutched a dagger, a dagger that was covered in more than just one man's blood. Heimdall didn't defend himself not because he couldn't see the attack coming. No, he didn't defend himself because he _could_ see.

Loki brought his hand to his chest, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping through his clothes. He laughed now, the metallic taste lingering on his tongue as he choked and spluttered. This was to be the end. Everything had come to this. Loki couldn't stop the laughter as it bubbled from his chest. He, who considered himself more cunning, more intelligent than the horde, was to die here on a battlefield, drowning in his own blood. Surely there was humour in that.

A sudden flash of light woke him from his mania. The burning fields around him were plunged into darkness as his eyes tried to adjust. Then a titanic clap of thunder shook the earth beneath him, throwing him to the ground. When silence finally settled, the battle was over. Death was everywhere, the fallen carcasses of god and men lay strewn about, now carrion to feed the crows. Nine paces away was the body of Jormungand still twitching, as its detached head watched blindly. And there was Thor.

Loki blinked back the fog that was slowly crowding in on his vision. It was no mirage, the God of Thunder still stood. As if sensing his gaze, Thor turned. A god he was but he was not invincible. His chest piece was broken and bloody, his cape a shredded mess, his helmet long gone. The son of Odin stumbled towards him as if in a dream. As he came closer, Loki could see the marks Jormungand had left upon him. There was no antidote for the Midgard Serpent's poison.

Succumbing to the darkness, Loki closed his eyes in defeat. The world would end and they would both die on the fields of Vigrith. The tears that came were unbidden. _I could've done it_. Loki was no longer sure of what he could have achieved. But the bitter feeling of being cheated, the injustice of losing his life now... No matter, Loki would accept his fate and face death with the same voracity he faced life. When he opened his eyes again, Thor had collapsed beside him. Loki watched as the death throes wracked his body; Jormungand's was a violent toxin. The two brothers lay beside each other as they waited for Freya and the Valkyrie to collect them. The sun draped the land in red gold as its last rays receded. Loki tried to speak, but could not find the words, his tongue felt leaden in his mouth. Though it hardly matter now, this was the end. And somehow, beyond words, he thought he could see understanding in his brother's face.

Thor’s bloody hand came to rest upon his face, branding him red. Those blue eyes that had always looked to him with love and affection amidst the rivalry and anger were clouding over now, unfocusing, dying. Loki gently kissed his brother’s fingers in a silent plea - _forgive me_.

 


End file.
